Field Mice
by Ovo
Summary: Nearly a century since the Phantom threat has been eliminated, an unlikely band of rebels struggle to survive outside the influence of a far reaching conspiracy. As tends to happen from time to time.
1. Raiding Party!

**Field Mice**

_1. Raiding Party!_

The gray steel structures stood in a silent memorial to world before, skeletal remains of better times. Unease grew among the shadows far below, in the minds of two people, mere ants to the anthill of the old city, who loitered restlessly amidst the debris. The first paced the clearest area he had found in the cluttered ruin, and occasionally stopped to kicked something out of the way for greater space. The second, antithesis to his companion, was still as the place surrounding them; he stood staring at the time on his wrist. At length, he let his arm drop and brought his left hand to the transmitter patch at his throat.

"If youre not here in five minutes, were sealing up without you," the mans voice was a heavy, consistent oscillation that made the other stop; they both stared upward in anticipation of a response.

"I dont think they heard you" the lighter throat trailed off as a broken transmission broke through the reticence. Unmistakable in the garbled message were the words _wait_ and _trouble_. So much for the clarity of a command

"Three minutes," the timekeeper said, going back to watching the chrome holo affixed to his wrist. He ignored the tangle of red-brown hair that spilled into his eyes as he dipped his head  he couldnt control it if he wanted to.

"Damnit, Eli, just _wait_."

That had come through clear. The men exchanged a glance, the first grinning fiendishly,

"Youre in trouble," he mocked the commander, seriousness replaced by a nervous giddiness.

"So are you, Tyler; trust me."

The grin faded, and the man drooped. He had a habit of forgetting the newly aquired transmitters didnt have to be fiddled with to send signals, and it got him into trouble. That the others had been so quiet was part of the concern the stragglers faced.

A hollow metallic _clang_ sent both men running for cover amidst the ruins, but it was what they were waiting for. From the portal leading into the city dropped four others, heavily burdened with both their own and stolen equipment.

"All right," the last man down the ladder glanced over his open shoulder, then spun around looking for the guard he left behind, "Wherever the hell you are; _now_ you can seal it."

The two that had run sheepishly returned, with secretive glances at the rest of the raiding party as the others left. They quickly scurried up the ladder to effectively break the entrance so that it couldnt be used again, so they couldnt be trailed. They finished swiftly, and soon joined their companions in the quick getaway run which led directly through old waterways.

Once they had, the commander dropped back in the file to observe the brooding young men. For hours they traveled in silence, until he called for a rest. They wouldnt be getting home tonight anyway. His second-in-command took it upon himself to assign guard duty

"Zinan and Tyler," the called upon flinched in recognition of the inevitable, "East and west."

Meanwhile, the commander indulged himself in a little joke.

"Elijah," the mans broad smile put the younger at unease, "I got something especially for you."

From over his shoulder, he offered the large bag. Elijah accepted it with trepidation, and nearly dropped it, for he wasnt expecting the weight. It squirmed, and he _did_ drop it, earning a muffled bit of some language he didnt know from what or whoever was within. Everyone who knew better was watching with grinning interest. Naturally curious, he tugged on the bags lengthy zipper.

He jumped back when he figured out just what it was, disgusted with his comrades and their little "joke." For their part, they just laughed, snickered, and smirked at him, even as his face grew dark and he tried to cuff the nearest soldier of his level.

"Now, there" the commander soothed, "We had a little accident, so we decided to bring her along. Congratulations Eli, you get to baby-sit for a while. If shes not alive when we get back, there will be hell to pay." As of yet, the rebels had never been responsible for an unnecessary death, and he planned to keep it that way. Although leaving the accidentally abducted woman in Elijahs care wasnt the smartest thing, like Tyler had said, the man was in trouble, and deservedly so.


	2. Home, or Something Like it

**Field Mice**

_2. Home, or Something Like It._

The walk home was a nightmare.

Elijah said all of one word. Similarly, there was little smalltalk among the rest of the group. Sara, as she introduced herself, chattered constantly. Apparently, being trussed up over a rebels shoulder did nothing to still her desire to socialize.

"So whyd you guys grab me, anyway?" she eventually asked, craning her neck to inspect the back of Elijahs head. The man only shrugged, and, ignoring the fact that it may have been to adjust her weight to a more comfortable position, Sara took it as an insult.

"Ugh!" she cried out, frustrated, "You people are the _worst_ kidnappers I have _ever_ met!"

Elijah stopped in his tracks, and uttered his single, disbelieving word, "What...?"

Similarly, Tyler stopped in mid-step. His nervous snicker belied his genuine care when he asked, "Do you want help?"

Elijah shook his head, resuming his stride with more enthusiasm than he felt.

**---**

Despite the dusty, mostly dead earth under the shadow of the rocky mesa, there were patches of sparse vegetation. A sign that life could still prosper under the adverse conditions. And it was near here that Home existed, a mix of hovels hidden in the crags and overhangs. The spot was chosen for the formation of caves under the same cliff, many of which had been converted for shelter or storage.

As they passed the Barrier  the first defense checkpoint of the encampment, named in honor of that which kept people safe a century past  there was a slight pique in attention. Those with the energy picked up the pace, leaving those more burdened or with less stamina trailing behind.

Flippancy still in place to hide concern, Tyler kept by his friend. His share of the altogether haul seemed insignificant in comparison and at all of thirty pounds, it quite was.

His silently sworn obligation, however, was thrown to the wind as they passed the second checkpoint some yards thus, for it was here that Angela appeared from the rocky surroundings. She stepped up as she caught his eye, and he dropped his backpack to match pace and meet her halfway.

"Aww, how cu-_uuee_!" Saras comment was broken off as Elijah shifted her over one shoulder so as to pick up Tylers lost bag. Unfortunately, the abrupt shift did little to stifle her seemingly endless barrage of commentary, "Hey, nice...!"

"You dropped this," Elijah grunted, letting the extra burden drop at Tylers feet in passing. Caught sheepish, the young man did the prudent thing upon realizing that Commander Hein was watching. He reclaimed his duty quick, though not without an air of rebellion: as he continued towards that hidden under the cliffside, he had his backpack on one arm and a lady on the other.

**---**

"Youre not leaving her here."

Elijah stumbled in the doorway of the vault, blood cold. It took all the inner strength he had to turn around rather than run screaming.

"What?"

"She wasnt a part of the heist," the commander explained calmly, as though talking to a child, "And _someone_ needs to make her comfortable until we figure out what to do with her."

Elijah peeked. Sara grinned broadly and waved exuberantly, "Hi!"

The single thought repeated, and seemed to be the only thing he would ever think again.

_Ohman,whyme?_

**---**

Commander Hein seated himself at the provisional table. There was a lack of professionalism to the hierarchy of their infamous little group, and sometimes he missed the more ridged system he had grown accustomed to.

His peers gathered around. While people joined for numerous reasons, only these people  and a mirror of their council in their sister faction  knew what they were fighting for. Something was happening in the remaining cities of the world, and they were swiftly forsaken by the forerunners of the rebellion. No one knew the full story, only pieces. And those that knew also understood that it was better to be alive in the wild, hidden, than it was to be hunted down for asking too many questions of the way things were going.

Suppressing the worry he had yet to voice, Hein began his report with an ominous touch.

"This has never happened before"


	3. Repercussions and Responsibility

**Field Mice**

_3. Repercussions and Responsibility_

"...and this - close your eyes a moment, it can be really bright..."

The last door of the row was unique. While there was only so much that could be done without a proper architect or carpenter, the frame was well fit to the chamber, much like the vault. The portal was seamless, guarding its secret perfectly.

"This is the Arboretum," Tyler explained, introducing the garden with a smile and a flourish. If he lived for anything, it was to impress, and the effort was rewarded. His guest stared, in awe of Home's unsurpassed single mystery.

Under an illusion of sunlight and dew, the bounty of plants thrived. Some resided on shelves and tables, potted, whereas others were imbedded in the soil coating the floor. Small trees protected some of the more delicate specimens from direct light. Algae danced in a modified alloy barrel, and vines climbed the walls.

"How?" Sara wondered. Not catching the implication, Tyler answered simply.

"Mirrors, mostly," he emphasized a bit, pointing to the ceiling above, "a couple of holes here and"

"I thought plants couldnt grow outside the Sheltered Zones," the girl tittered, her tone a duality in mock-conspiracy and wonder.

"Yes, well..." admittedly sheltered from the civilized world, Tyler knew nothing of this assumption. Although he lavished the rapt attention of the attractive young woman that had recently fallen into his friends lap, he had no answer.

It was to his fortune that Angela appeared, investigating the enigmatically open door.

"You'll be showing her the art gallery next, I take it?"

Startled, then confused, the man could only stammer, "Art gallery?" Sara sought to explore the Arboretum, and so he inched closer to Angela to whisper, "Angie, we don't _have_ an art gallery..." at her wry smile, his sense of puzzlement grew, "Do we?"

**---**

"You keep shirking, Eli, and I will have to do something about it," Hein feigned.

"Whatever," not intimidated, no bravado, but not relenting, Elijah remained as he was. Arms curled around his kneels, he stared at the far wall with a detached stare.

"You listening? They won't care whose son you are..."

It was little use. No one should have been born to this life, but the struggle had gone on far too many years. But by all rights, Elijah should have been holed up with the faction that shadowed around in what was, by comparison, a peaceful existence. He was only here at Heins insistence... and only by grace of a certain vengeance-lust that would not have taken him anywhere else; both councils knew it. Hein knew it. And it was very likely that, somewhere within, Elijah knew it.

"She's with Tyler," the younger man explained flatly, "Wanted a look around, and he wanted to show her. I don't feel good, so I'm here, waiting for them to get back. And hoping it'll shut her up a bit."

"Ah, in that case... I dont think it'll work." The remark garnered a quiet snicker, which was followed by awkward moment of silence. "Look, if it's any consolation, we'll be getting rid of her fast as we can," an exotic insight caught up to the commander, "You been crying?"

"No, sir," the vehement denial softened, "What d'you mean, 'get rid of her'?"

"It has been decided that," _I disagree,_ Elijah translated, "in the interest of keeping to the standards, lest we fall into amorality," _in order to keep up appearances_ "and given that she is Councilman Auberons granddaughter," _...Who?_ "it is the ideal solution..." Hein paused, "Never mind all that. We drop her off during the next heist."

"We're just going to let her go?"

"Why not?" Hein replied, half to himself, "Not like we have anything to hide..."

Suddenly, a more startling, and inherently disturbing, revelation overcame Eli, "She's gonna be here for a whole _month_?"

**---**

"Is it me, or is something missing here?"

Tyler jumped. Surprising him was not much of a challenge, given the dark hallways. Or his rampant disregard of caution when in the encampment. Still...

_Two for two_, Hein mused, "Where's Sara? Am I to presume she has free run of the camp, now?"

"No... I don't think so," Tyler replied meekly, "She's with Angie."

"Oh, good."

It was an impossible situation; but, at the very least, Angela was responsible.


	4. Home, or Far From It

**Field Mice**

_____4. Home, or Far From It_

"Eli?"

"Yeah?"

"Still watching the clock?"

"Yeah."

"How many hours we got?"

"…Two."

Pause.

"Oh. G'night."

"Night, Ty."

**---**

"So it wasn't so bad, you know," Sara accredited, "Beats work. A little adventure is good for the soul and all."

"So they say," Angela grinned, "Sad to see you go, though. I mean, everyone is pretty fond of you. Except- um, I've never seen Elijah turn that shade of purple before. But that... had to be good for him. Somehow."

Sara wrinkled her nose, "I dunno, I think he hates me now."

"Oh, no, Hon; he doesn't really like women, is all."

"Oh." thinking about this for a moment, the younger girl asked, all innocence that _wasn't_ innocence, "So he likes men?"

"Uh," Angie could only answer something that sugary-sweet honestly, "Well not like that, that I know of anyway. He's... completely terrified of women, is all."

"Weird."

At that moment, Hein chose to make his morning appearance to the dining chamber. He had spent the ungodly hours of the AM collecting his wits for the day's assignment, and now he needed coffee. Coffee was good, and the supply was getting low, which meant he had to get to it _before_ everyone else, especially if he was going to take on a daring new mission-type. Yep. Coffee was good.

"I've..." Angela glanced at Hein as he rummaged the shelves, "Huh. I've got to get back to work on the plants. Good luck with getting back home and all."

"Thanks! You... um, good luck to you, too!"

"Later, Commander."

"Mmhmph."

At length, Hein glanced over his shoulder. Sara was sitting at the near table, staring adorably in that... strange... innocent way she had. He had managed to mostly avoid her for the full three and a half weeks since she had arrived. Groaning inwardly, he collected his precious coffee and settled himself into the chair across from her.

And so they sat, staring. Minutes ticked by in silence. There was... nothing to say.

"So," Hein tried at length, "Tell me about yourself."

Sara merely shrugged.

**---**

The plan was simple: rendezvous with Councilman Auberon and his escort; drop off Sara; escape under an oath of truce; and, finally, immediately violate said truce in order to bring home the month's supplies.

Hein hated it, but they risked well enough so far in contacting Auberon. And maybe, as was the thinking of his peers, Sara could do some convincing that the rebels weren't _all_ bad. The Commander only hoped that Auberon could protect her if she decided to even try it. The old man was one of the most influential men in their sector, sure, but it wasn't like men more powerful had been spared death for being significant.

Shaking off his doubts, he took stock. Elijah was flanking him left; Tyler was flanking Sara, to his right. Two others – Llorin and Rad, were hidden to keep in communication with Sub-commander Zinan, who was orchestrating the impending raid, somewhere on one of the tiers below... The abandoned section of street on the very edge of the city was pockmarked with debris. The old structural supports reached into the sky like skeletal fingers.

The sun was nearing zenith, and Auberon stepped from the shadows of the old, dead offices and homes and businesses that no longer were. He stared at his granddaughter for a moment, and, stony expression not changing, turned that gaze to the Hein.

"You're look healthy, _Commander_."

"Strangely," Hein laughed, "Curses will do that to a man, it seems."

Elijah started, looking up. Skeptical, he slinked around Hein for a better, less suspect look, but Auberon had turned his attention back to Sara.

"You alright, princess?"

"Yeah! These people are like, the nicest in the world...!"

And so she rambled off, slow to step forward as she recounted numerous things that had happened. Hein grimaced at the sheer... embellishing of the story. Behind him, Elijah fidgeted relentlessly.

"Commander," the young man hissed, "That's hi-"

The accusation went unstated, for at that moment Auberon turned away, ignoring Sara's _Hey!_ at being ignored, and there was a movement of the shadows. The world blurred to adrenaline.


	5. Change and Evolution

**Field Mice **

_5. Change and Evolution_

It was over in a minute, but every second the blood rushed through his ears and he was not sure if he would live. A lesser man might have been taken aback by the beasts that lumbered on two legs, unassumingly fast for how bulky, and how _armored_ they were. Contrarily, Hein had spent many long hours reflecting on Fate, and everything he had to lose was behind him.

Auberon disappeared, rather spry for an aged man. Undaunted, Hein focused on the unwieldy guardsmen instead. His own weapon was old, but effective – it took three attempts to down the first beast, the creature that only saw him as a nuisance. And it took three, for it was trial and error finding a weak spot. As its partner fell, the second rounded on him, but this time he _knew_.

And in five earsplitting reports it was over, even as his body cooled from the chemical high. Five, not four, and the third softer than the rest. The second beast – the one that found a meager human dangerous enough to change from its duty for self-preservation – managed to fulfil a margin of its purpose.

Not Tyler, merely stunned stupid as he had been four minutes ago. Nor Sara, who coughed for lost breath, was bumped and bruised, but otherwise unharmed. It was Elijah, momentarily seeing one side and blind to the other, who curled at a pained angle on the ground beside her. At the nuance of peril, the movement had been desperate – he could never save his father, but he could save a life.

The silence lasted longer than the firefight. Commander Hein did his best to surmount the situation by knowing. It was a good thing Elijah spoke up, for now Hein knew who murdered a man in front of the man's four-year-old son, even if the son would never speak again. Likewise, it was a good thing it was Elijah, not Sara, who was injured – possibly for the worst. It was a good thing, because the rebellion had no voice, and no one would believe that Councilman Auberon set up to assassinate his own granddaughter on _their_ blood.

Hein swore aloud. He hated statistics… reasoning, rationale… It always made him feel so _cold_. Or maybe that was the adrenaline leaving his system.

"Rad, get to Zinan and tell him what happened. Tell him to find a hideout and keep occupied until further notice," turning to emphasize, as though sheer determination would make it happen, he added, "Do not fail."

"Llorin, over here."

Scavenging had become second nature, but they never used weapons, and Hein doubted they knew how. His own was old, antique, out of manufacture and nearly out of bullets. The few kept at Home were hidden in storage, and were only there at all in case of an escape.

_Change_, he mused when Llorin took the weapon without complaint.

"You," he addressed Sara, breaking her concentration on her bloodied hands by offering up the last weapon, "Know how to use one of these things?" Her nod proffered a succinct, "Good."

Kneeling by Elijah, the commander allowed himself a moment of pity as he inspected the younger man's wound. At first glance, it appeared harmless. Little blood, more of a seared mark than a wound. If it weren't for the mark and behavior of a far more grievous injury below the skin, there might not have been anything to worry about.

"Tyler..." oblivious where he was, Tyler didn't hear. But it was imperative, and they had spent too much time already. "_Tyler_. Get him up; we're going."

"_Where_ are we going?" Sara asked, doe innocent even as she cradled a weapon that could kill with the barest mark. Hein wondered, but spared no time and answered,

"To find a hiding place."

For a brief and shining moment in history, Humanity had held something close to paragon in kinship. And in his lifetime, Hein had seen its breaking point. He would wonder, time and again on reflection, if the fall from grace was, indeed, his fault. Not to think of that now, he knew only one reality.

_Live and breathe; adapt or die_.

**---**

He would remember the blue. The crystalline structure seemed to glow deeper as the sun set, and the natural cerulean of the walls lit up under the stars.

He would not remember Tyler's desperate attempts to keep him awake, or _where_ they were, or _why_ it was so blue, or even that he hated mausoleums. But memory is a fickle thing.

"It's no good," Tyler sighed, shuddering on the cold floor of the tomb. Nearby, Sara and Llorin were looking over the long dead, frozen in time for remembrance. Hein had taken a moment to stare down one of the deceased, but the proclamation brought him back to _now_, and he lost the match.

At heart, Tyler was an optimist, but the sheer hopelessness of the situation had caught him. The commander understood the implication too well.

"All right," Hein said softly, "Go; get them someplace safe. I'll catch up when I can."

"I can do it," Tyler insisted, "Really, I can. And they need _you_ more than they need me, anyway."

"Do what?" Sara asked. She looked to Llorin, who looked away, and Hein, who was beginning to hate it when she let slip more intelligence that she, normally, let on. If she hadn't understood before she asked, the reticence gave her the clue, "Oh, no. Nah-uh, no! _Why_?"

"Because it's easier that way. If he's dying here, then he'll be dying at home just the same," at the girl's confused look, Tyler added, "We don't have anything, really; I mean, South Falls has a midwife, but..."

"Well, what about the hospital? I mean, there's one and it's only about..."

"Out of the question," Hein snapped, "Eli is the most wanted man anywhere under Auberon's influence, as I'm guessing you know. And even if they allowed him to be treated, it would only be so he could later be executed for high treason."

"Well, could steal...!"

"Are you a doctor?"

"...Kidnap?"

Hein shook his head. To anyone else, it might have been the end of the conversation, but as he was quickly learning, Sara was Sara. A thoughtful pause later, which he _had_ mistaken for the end of the conversation, she suggested,

"What about the Luna Circle?"

And so he laughed, 'til he realized she was serious.

"Why not? They're neutral, and advanced, and sure to have good medical stuff. It's better than _killing _your friend."

"They're neutral, and dislike trespassers, and are across the Atlantic, to start."

"There's an warp point by the old government building; it's part of the Snake's Way. It'll take us right there and we can at least _ask_."

Not having a good reply to that, the commander considered it. He also considered whether it was a trap, or perhaps the cat-and-mouse way to get him back to Ur. If it were the latter, he would have to have words with the witch anyhow, and if it were the former... well, little enough to worry about after that.

"Can we?" Tyler asked, sounding very small, "It's worth a try, right?"

"Yeah," Hein conceded at last. As Sara had pointed out – it was better than killing a friend.


	6. Infinity Gate

**Field Mice **

_6. Infinity Gate_

The portal was only noteworthy for its feeling of _out of place_. A thin stone arch, it was roughly the size of a large door, and surrounded by a landscape of steel and iron.

It was also, as luck and Tyler found it, nonfunctional.

"It's been abandoned for almost thirty years," Sara whimpered in her own defense, "What did you expect?"

"When you say, 'We have a chance,'" Hein clarified, "I expect you to mean, 'We have a chance.'" He watched, wearied, while she struggled over something at the device's base. When she caught him staring, she huffed indignantly,

"Could you maybe lend a girl a hand?"

The commander sighed, but did as much, finding her trying to lift a tile out of place. It was not heavy as she made it seem, but it was certainly heavy for how it looked. He placed it aside, and Sara disappeared beneath the hole it concealed. He glared.

"What are you doing?"

The girl reappeared, "Ever flipped the polarities of the power cells on a portable to get a little more energy?"

"No."

She ducked down again, and hit something hard. Back again, she reached a hand and smiled, "Same principle."

Llorin helped her up, despite it not being necessary, and she brushed herself off.

"Anyway, it should be working now."

The gate was silent. But for a glow only noticeable to the trained mind, there was nothing different. Tyler eyed Sara, suspicious, through the arch before taking a diminutive step forward. He was about to berate the inanity of making him walk through mundane architecture – jump through hoops, as it were – when he noticed that the ground had changed. And the sky was closer to dawn, and a desert stretched out around him.

Hein appeared behind him, and Sara. Last by a margin, Llorin fell to the caked ground in a coughing fit. For a time, it was the only sound.

"This isn't the Citadel," the Commander growled. There was no way to know where they were, and no way back.

"They must have changed it," Sara shrugged, "It wasn't even in use, so they probably figured no one would use it and-"

"No," Hein said. "They knew. _Don't_ move."

"Don't move?" she asked, turned, and _Ah_ed sagely, "Don't _move_."

In the day and age, some might have argued that the Lunar Circle had nothing to do with the outside world, and that being ambushed in the middle of a far off desert was a meager coincidence. Contrarily, Hein took it to mean that they indeed paid just enough attention to set an ambush.

**---**

_Now you're showing off_.

His intentions were evident. There was certainly nothing she could have wanted _him_ for. Hein presumed he should have been thankful; she was giving him time to scrape a plan together. But the glittering hall went on and on, and he was sick of the sparkle and getting tired of walking.

Those of his entourage yet to complain, but that might have had something to do with their escort. The Commander admitted to himself that there was a certain mystification in being able to see... _non-humans_, these things he hadn't a word for, up close and when they weren't trying to murder him. These were not the same as those he had killed; two were far closer to human and the third was misleadingly gentle and almost avian.

Driven inward, he thought of many things. Trudging up memories better left forgotten, but always at the edge of dreams, he sought for the edge that would win back the game. When his mind caught up with his feet, they were all but alone at the end of the path. Their escort had vanished, here or there, if they had been real at all; it was hard to determine in such a place. The glassy chamber glowed softly with life, but the eye was drawn to the dais in the center.

It was here that Hein knew he made a mistake. The last time he had seen her – left her – she was a child clinging to a lifeless body. Now, things were different. Lifetimes different, in fact, yet she stared coldly at him, wearing her mother's face.


	7. Hands of a Keeper

**Field Mice **

_7. Hands of a Keeper_

"So the betrayer has come to us for help."

She dared him to disagree. Not that he could, not openly. Hein stared at the visage of the dead until it melted away, and the woman faced him as herself. He wondered, briefly, why she appeared human, and not alike to the retainers he had seen so far. He concluded that if she wanted to tear his innards through his nose, she would do so without the need for talons or claws. Thanks to _that_ imagery, the shadow of doubt crept further over him as he tried to think of something he could say.

The commander could not recognize her, but there was something about her eyes that reminded him of the little girl he walked away from. Maybe in some sense of the word, she was still human. And so long as she was, there was a sliver of a chance to appeal to her humanity.

"It's not like we had anywhere else to go," the truth didn't _exactly_ come out as he wanted it, and he hoped that nervous twitch he felt _hadn't_ happened for real. He decided to throw the pining and appeal to fair trade, "And it's not like we want your help for free. I've got news, and someone as beautiful and gracious and intelligent as _you_ know... uh, the value of good information, and also that I'm not lying."

Tyler squeaked in surprise, "What are you doing?"

"Shut _up_, kid," Hein hissed, as though in conspiracy that the room did not hear, "Can't you see I'm making an ass out of myself?"

Tyler was left most confused, though Sara giggled. Llorin stepped forward at a gesture.

"I think you might want to know that someone is pilfering your technology," Hein continued, now with the prop to back himself up. "I suspect these weapons were made by your people, not to mention the things we killed to get them seemed like they would only fit in your menagerie."

"And you don't even need to try it to see what it does," he added as she took the weapon and studied it, then him, followed by it again, "I have a boy here you can have, if you can keep him alive."

"If you think that forced righteousness is enough to get me to revoke the curse," Nova said, "You are sadly mistaken."

"I tried that," Hein replied, "For a number of years. Nothing worked, so I don't see the point in bothering anymore."

"You could have tried suicide. I never said you were truly immortal," her mouth curled meagerly; he was lowly, and did not merit the contempt, "Then again, you might be. I never said you weren't."

A creature crept from the shadows, and Tyler was caught unaware as Elijah's dead weight was lifted from his shoulders by misleadingly spindly tentacles. The monstrosity towered over him, and he gaped, awestruck, at his first sight of a creature that, as he always understood it, only plagued the nightmares of the elderly. Where his people cringed at the sight of the alien, Hein grimaced, shooting Nova a withering stare.

"You're full of surprises aren't you?" Hein growled. Nova ignored him, dramatizing a sigh as she stared at the door.

"In the future, leave your issues at the Labyrinth. And in the meanwhile, don't move."

The weapon in her hand vanished first, and then did Hein.

**---**

Auberon disliked the Lunar Circle. He imagined them pompous and arrogant; for aliens masquerading as humans, they acted like they owned the planet.

At once, he feared and coveted their power. He frequently wished Hein _had_ killed the brat when he had the chance. It would have left them aimless, easy to dominate and use for his purposes. Then, all the diplomacy wouldn't have been necessary. The world would have been his years ago.

Auberon's annoyance increased when he and his were led to an empty room, and the woman that did not bother masking her contempt.

"No pleasantries, no small talk," he insisted, which went over easily, "You have a man I want – he came through the Serpent Way, and this is the only place he could have gotten to."

"Serpent Road," Nova corrected, disinterested, "and what do you expect me to do about it?"

"It's this or the desert, and he isn't in the desert," the councilman snorted, "And I'll search this place myself if you don't give him to me."

"No," the woman replied.

"What?"

"No."

Councilman Auberon was at a loss – very few people ever dared refuse him.


	8. Three Worlds

**Field Mice**

_8. Three Worlds_

Somehow, the horizon and the sky were not _quite_ matching up. It was the same with the ceiling and the wall. And the supernova-crossed-black hole-thing in the distance was strangely lacking in perspective whatsoever.

"Ah, there you are," and then there was the strange, fuzzy man that he had failed to notice, "Have a seat."

He did not remember the chair being there before, either. But the chair was less likely to attack him when he was not looking, and so he remained standing and staring at the stranger.

"You," the fuzzy man said, "must be Elijah Kimball, yes?"

Normally, it would have been an affront to be named by a total stranger. This time, it was all he could do to remain indignant, "Who are you?"

"I am the Dreamweaver," stepping forward from behind a desk, that had not previously been, he bowed politely, "But if you prefer, Frederick S. Yates, at your service."

"Dreamweaver?" Elijah echoed, catching another _at your service!_ for the effort. Blindsided, he only said, "Um," where he meant something closer to, _What are you on about?_

"Oh, well... you see, all this is your dream," Frederick indicated with a sweep of his arm, "Your subconscious. I am projecting myself here, to speak with you... You are Elijah?"

"Yeah. Who else would I be?"

"A figment, and that wouldn't do at all."

"A what?"

"A figment."

It sort of made sense, if not at all. "Oh."

"Yes, well, anyway, over that way is the event horizon of the Otherworld... some of my kind like to call it the Darkside, but it's not that bad. Usually, or it depends on who you run into, but even so, Jennifer wouldn't go over there if it were all _that_ bad. Still, you shouldn't go over there just yet-"

"I don't see anything."

"All the same," Frederick shrugged, "Have a seat. We'll talk."

"I prefer to stand," Eli pointed out, "And we _are_ talking. What is-" Finding himself seated, and, most suspicious, he glared, "What is all this?"

"Ah. As I was saying, this is your subconscious. I'm here because your mortal shell is in a bad way, and I need to find out what, if anything, you want us to do with it.

"You see, you're dying; or you would be, if you weren't here. I'm rather surprised you made it this far; your chest is mostly liquidated on the inside, quite nasty."

Frederick smiled brightly, "But you know, I think you might have a little of us in you. It would explain a lot."

"Some of..." Elijah had a bit of trouble following, especially since most of the conversation... were they having a conversation? was inferred on retrospect. "Who are you?"

"Frederick."

"That isn't... You..." Without anything to say, he did not say anything.

"I'm here to offer you your choices. We can reconstruct your body, but to do it safely, it could take time... a lot of time. Possibly decades, to be done correctly. Or we could try to do it swiftly, but our methods and human physiology don't mix very well, and your body could become unstable, and likely dead outside of Eden. Or equally probable, fall apart in the effort."

A tumbleweed rolled by, pulled along on a string. Frederick drew little faces in the far-yet-near clouds, and Elijah merely stared.

"Of course, it's all your choice," the fuzzy man interjected, "We could do nothing, if that is what you want.

"Now if you excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere for a moment. I shall return again."

He disappeared, and the landscape faded. Thoroughly confused, Elijah blinked.

"Wait, what?"

But it was too late; he was already slipping back into a lesser state of awareness.


	9. He of Little Faith

**Field Mice**

_9. He of Little Faith_

At long last, Auberon left in a huff; upon reflection of the bitter display and his being saved by the power of illusion, Hein decided to push his luck.

"That was awfully nice of you."

"We're neutral," Nova stated, her tone flat "If I _had_ let him have you, it would not be very neutral, now, would it?"

Hein imagined that it was also a way to get back at him... to rise above, despite her preferences, and proclaim _I'm better_.

Or maybe she had, long ago, and he was only being paranoid. He did not know.

"You can wait elsewhere," the sovereign growled, "I've never been fond of looking at you, and now I'm sick of it."

On cue, the avian humanoid, or one similar, appeared. As they were led from the chamber, Tyler sidled up beside the commander and asked, dreadfully curious now, "How old _are_ you?"

Hein narrowed his eyes and swatted at the younger man.

**---**

"Have you decided?"

"Decided?"

"Yes… or I think so."

"And you worry?"

"They'll understand, right?"

"Are they your friends?"

"Yes."

"Then they will understand."

**---**

"What's taking so long?"

After a rousing game of _Guess Commander Hein's Age_ with Sara, which ended abruptly when the commander got annoyed enough to admit he was old enough to have seen _real_ Phantoms, Tyler was bored. He was also worried about Elijah. And in discomfort, as the room seemed to be inclined towards that purpose.

"Who knows?" Hein grumbled.

"I do," replied a dusky blond man, appeared out of nowhere. "You should go. There's only a little time now before they start casting their nets outside our border to catch you."

The peculiar of the Citadel was fast becoming normal.

"What about Eli?" Tyler asked, "We can't leave without-"

"It isn't a suggestion, Tyler," Hein said. The stranger nodded in agreement.

"No... Jennifer will not be pleased if you are underfoot for any length of time. She might even... you know, turn you into a newt, or something. And this could take _quite_ a length of time. If he so desires, he may return to you when we are finished, but until then..."

"Whatever it takes," Hein sighed, "And ... tell her 'Thank you,' for me."


	10. Moving Day

**Field Mice**_  
_

_10. Moving Day_

Their small escort stopped bluntly, watching until such distance passed that they were invisible in crags. Hein pretended not to notice, despite the frequent backward glances by his own. So wrapped up in his snubbery, he neglected the fact that they had picked up a stray.

His pride survived well, mostly due to the fact that he was the first to notice the strange young man that followed them all the way back to the American continents.

"And you would be...?"

"Gene," the ruddy youth beamed, "I thought you might want some help."

"Ah... huh." The fact that he might have been a spy notwithstanding, Hein did _not_ want to know what new hexes Nova would experiment on him with if she caught him kidnapping her people, "Go home; the queen bee won't be happy to find you missing."

"Oh, she already knows," Gene replied, "Besides, you really could use me."

In following, he happily exclaimed, "I start fires!"

**---**

The hole in the wall had been home for nearly four years. It would have been four years in about a month and a half; and Tyler felt really strange about it all. Moving always felt strange, but the weirdest bit had to do with the things on Elijah's side of the room.

Not that there was much over there. Half a dozen books and a small photo album were probably the bulk of it; a few loose leafs, the two data cubes, and his half of the little metal figurines they picked out of the ruins some months back filled out the collection. It all fit neatly into one crate.

Tyler's crate was more impressive, but it was still only one crate. They stacked neatly on top of one another, for easy carrying.

The more he thought on it, the less sense it made. Numerically, they had lost one, but gained two. That should have been an accomplishment of some kind. Sara was fun, and Gene was... combustible, but Elijah was his best friend, and it failed to balance out. It even _wasn't fair_.

But it was time to go.

**_The End_**

**_

* * *

_**

**Working Title**: _Field Mice_

**Inspiration**: Can't remember.

**Noteworthy**: Mostly original characters, hey?

**Disambiguation**: The various characters were supposed to be related, somehow, to the film cast characters. Hein is obvious, Nova was Aki's, and I don't remember any of the others. The "Snake's Way" was supposed to be reminiscent of the Serpent Road, from Final Fantasy IV (called the Devil Road in the GBA remake). Eli's problems are his own darn business.

_Derivative work of material © Square Pictures, Squaresoft. Reformatted to abide by 'site standards. None of the original text has been modified, 'cept in case of typo._


End file.
